Merry Olde England
by Rogue Force
Summary: Ripcord and Covergirl, members of the newly formed G.I. Joe team, are sent to England to raid and destory the central offices of the MARS system.


Untitled 

Disclaimer: We don't own these characters, Hasbro does. This is our first collaborative effort. It started as an RPG that kind of took on it's own life. The stories get better, we promise, this is pretty much included because some of the events are mentioned in later stories. If you're up for a good RPG, or just want to write Joe (ONLY, no crossovers) collaborative fiction, visit http://www.angelfire.com/nv2/iloveheather/gijoe/gijoe.html. On a side note, Post Junkie 2 wants to thank her PIC for all his help as the MA/CN. I still fear the thunder and lightning, but thanks for helping my writing! 

The small antechamber of the office hinged at the uncomfortable level of silence, as the only sound in the room was the drone of a female specialist, sitting behind a desk and dressed in Army issue 'Class B' uniform, typing on a computer. The only other person in the room was a man in Army issue 'Class A' uniform who was sitting in one of three separate padded chairs set against one wall of the office. The man's impatience showed as he mindlessly scratched at his close-cropped fiery red hair for about the fifteenth time in about two minutes. Finally the silence was broken as a small phone at the woman's desk rang. The woman picked up the phone and began to answer the speaker on the other end of the line. "Yes sir.....Yes sir....I'll send him in right away sir." As the woman placed the phone back on the cradle, her glance shifted to the man, giving him a warm smile as she spoke, "The general will see you now Specialist Weems." 

"Thanks." Weems said with a quick nod and smile. As he stood up, the light played over the highly shined metal of the badges and insignia that covered his Class A jacket, most notably the master parachutist, HALO, and EOD. badges that dominated the left hand breast of the jacket. As he strode with purposeful steps towards the large wooden door beside the woman's desk he did what he could make his 6' 1 height and better than average build seem even more impressive. He opened the door and after entering the room he came to a halt and set himself into a position of attention exactly three feet in front of the general's desk. Fixing his eyes on the back wall of the office, he snapped his right hand up in a salute and held it there as he began to speak in a clear, even voice, "Specialist Wallace A. Weems reporting as ordered sir." 

'Ripcord' as 'Hawk' had elected to use as his codename, stared out across the huge expanse of the motor pool lost in thought, with only the sounds of a nearby soldier tinkering with the engine of 'VAMP' keeping him from completely zoning out. His thoughts dwelled mostly on the slew of briefings he'd been assaulted with since his arrival to the massive, remote base in the Virginia mountains. Briefing on terrorist groups, one called 'Cobra' in particular, were the foremost. Then they were the briefings on the custom equipment that the team used. Following those were a near endless string of smaller briefings on everything from protocol to tactics. His thoughts were interrupted, causing eyes to brake their empty stare across the motor pool as the deep rumblings of a diesel engine filled the motor pool. One of the team's big "Wolverine" missile platforms began to roll into a open bay. As it came to a halt and the sounds of the big engine died, it's driver climbed out of the lone hatch on the vehicle and removed his helmet before makes a small leap to the concrete floor. Ripcord was taken a back for a moment as the driver turned around. It was a woman. A woman? In armor? Ripcord thought before his mind went blank as he took in the details of the driver. Talk about too-beautiful-for-government-work. The woman seemed to notice his staring as she shot a smirk and a shake of her head in his direction. Ripcord shook thoughts of the woman free of his head and let his thoughts wonder again. 'Codenames, custom equipment, the obvious lack of standard military protocol or regulations, and this apparently is beyond a platoon or company size unit. I know there's this whole hidden 'Cobra' threat but I think their operation must bigger than what the brass let on to. Maybe I'm just antsy. I'll calm down a little once I get some orders. I think it could help out everybody around here a lot, the tension is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Maybe it's just 'cause we're newly formed, but it's kinda creepy, for the most part everybody is just stickin' to themselves...' Ripcord shook the thoughts free of his head again, he could sulk and daydream or his could attempt to get to know the members of his new unit better. The latter seemed more enjoyable. He pushed himself off of the 'Mauler' that he'd been leaning on and started walking towards the stairwell, letting out a heavy exhale and mumbling to no one in particular. "Maybe I'll go find that 'Freefall' guy again, he was better to hang around with than 'Crazy Legs'." A small smile crossed his face as he realized that in 'getting to know his unit better', he'd only really talked with people who'd he'd seen with jump wings. Old habits die hard. "Jumpers gotta stick together." He mused to himself as he exited the motor pool. 

It seemed that the longer Ripcord had to wait, the more he'd become restless. Being in the Army for six years, he'd learned to deal with just sitting around the base for extended periods of time, but this was different. With such a covert unit having this big an operation, it was obvious that they'd be called on quite often. Finally his anxiousness came to an end when he'd been ordered to report to a briefing that morning. He eagerly reported to one of the base's huge auditoriums which was to be the briefing's location. He stopped in his tracks when he first entered the huge auditorium, impressed with the sheer number of soldiers, airmen, marines, and sailors that were packed into the room, creating a sea of camouflage BDUs. Putting his thoughts back to reality, he quickly found an open seat and slid into it. The room was filled with the dull roar of multiple voices as many of the troops shared small talk. A few moments passed before a single voice carried over all of the others like a gunshot. 

"Room A-TEN-SHUN!" Booming voice barked out. Instantly the auditorium became deathly silent as all of the troops shot to their feet. Down near the bottom of the stadium seating room Hawk, clad in BDUs just like his men, strode purposefully into the room, coming to a halt as he took his place behind a podium. 

"Be seated." Hawk's authoritive voice said into the microphone, however the general's natural voice projection almost rendered the microphone unnecessary. With that, Hawk began to read off names followed by operational outlines, each individual standing when they had been assigned to a mission. Ripcord hung on Hawk's every word, waiting for his codename to be called, barely noticing the extended amount of time that had passed. Finally it came. 

"Ripcord and Covergirl," The general started, causing the two soldiers to immediately shoot to their feet, "Yours will be most likely the best and easiest assignment. The CIA and MI-5 have recently learned of Cobra operations in the London area. You mission is mainly liaison duties. You'll meet a contact at RAF Brize Norton, code named Big Ben, who'll act as your go between for us and the SAS. Hopefully by the time you arrive in the United Kingdom, MI-5 will have gathered some idea as to exactly where and what the Cobra presence in the London area is about. Just like the other teams you can pick up your mission packet from the intelligence offices for the finer details of your mission." As Hawk started to rattle off names for the next operation, Ripcord dropped from his stoic position of attention and slid back down into the padded folding seat, his thoughts focusing on the mission he was about to undertake. 

After hopping a short flight piloted by a crazy Texan on one of the unit's custom "Tomahawk" helicopters, Ripcord arrived at Pope AFB where he now stood watching the air force personnel load up fuel into the KC-135 plane which he and Covergirl were hopping to RAF Brize Norton. After another vain attempt to brush dust off of his BDUs he looked up from under the brim of his softcap and saw Covergirl approaching. He picked up his duffle and fell into step beside her as the they began to head for the KC-135. "Hey Covergirl how are ya? I just want to ask you what all you're qualified do. I figure since this is obvious a small and somewhat covert op that we need to know what we can count on each other for if something goes wrong." Ripcord jerks a thumb towards his chest before continuing. "Me, I'm basically your standard airborne-infantry demolitions guy, rated master parachutist, rated HALO, rated EOD, expert on M-16, and expert on M-1911." After the long winded sentence was over he shifted his gaze over to her, "I know you mostly drive one of those custom missile platforms so that means you're obviously into either armor, ADA, or arty. So what else are you rated at?" 

Covergirl shook Ripcord's hand as he falls in step next to her and smiled. "Sounds like you've done some homework, Skyboy. You're right, my MOS is armor, operating the Wolverine, SMS mechanic. If it moves I can fix it, hot-wire it, or drive it, even if the steering wheel is on the wrong side. Plus, I'm a qualified expert with the M-16 and M-1911 and LAW." She has to shout a little louder as they climb aboard the Stratotanker preparing for take off. "I also know London like the back of my hand, so getting around shouldn't be a problem." She chuckled as she noted the predominant HALO and master parachutist badges on the chest of his BDUs. "Keeping you from jumping out of this bird, now THAT may be a problem!" she kidded. 

Ripcord smirked as Covergirl joked about him staying in the aircraft. "Don't worry, I promise to behave myself." With that the two boarded into the cargo section of the KC-135 and settled in for the long trans-Atlantic flight. Over the course the two engaged in small talk to break the monotony. Finally the aircraft touched down at RAF Brize Norton, and after taxiing to a far off hangar the aircraft came to a halt. Ripcord exited the aircraft and saw a man in British camouflage waiting in the middle of the taxi ramp. As Ripcord approached him the man spoke up. 

"Ello there mate, I'm Sargea-" the man started before he cut himself off with a sigh as he continued, "I'm Big Ben that is." Ripcord laughed and shook his head. 

"Don't worry 'bout it, I don't really see the need for these goofy codenames either." Ripcord noticed that Big Ben suddenly started gawking at something behind him. Ripcord turned and saw Covergirl approaching. 'Man, she can even make a simple set of BDUs look amazing.' Ripcord thought to himself as he turned back to Big Ben. "Yeah, I had that reaction too at first but don't worry, she sounds like she knows what she's doin'." As Covergirl joined the two they exchanged pleasantries before Big Ben ushered the two Joes into a small briefing room in the hangar. 

"Alright now then down to business." He organized a few papers before he continued. "MI-5 has determined that the Cobra operation in London is a diversion. It is designed to take the eyes of the British government off a more well hidden operation." With that Big Ben hit a switch on a remote, causing the room's lights to dim as the picture of a building was projected onto the wall. "This is McMullen Technologies, a company that operates just on the borders of the commercial district of Edinburgh, Scotland. We believe this to be a front for this man." The image then switched to picture of an impressive-looking man in a business suit and a polished silver mask. "James McCullen, suspected by Interpol as a major arms dealer. We believe that he is now supplying Cobra forces. On taped lines he's been talking a lot about Extensive Enterprises and something called 'Mars'. Our governments want us to get in there, get information on their projects, then level the building." A blue print of the building was then shown. "The building is heavily guarded by the land, so SAS supposes a small five man team, the three of us and two of my SAS men, to drop into the building to complete these goals." Before Big Ben could continue Ripcord held up a hand to stop the SAS NCO. "Hold on a sec, me and your SAS team maybe jump qualified but I'm not sure if she is." he said as he turned his chair to look at Covergirl. 

Cover Girl shook her head slightly at Ripcord's comment, happy for once that she didn't get the typical "tandem" response. "I've been doing this for a while, Skyboy, don't worry about me making the jump." She said with mock confidence. "You worry about the demolitions end, and I'll have your back." She then turned to Big Ben. "The way I see it, if this is heavily guarded by land, as long as they don't have access to any SAM's, we'll be in good shape. " Not being formerly jump qualified, she admitted being nervous only to herself. Although she had gone on many a jump throughout training, falling to the earth like a rock wasn't high on her likeability list. Still, she made a mental note to have the psycho-jumper double check her gear before taking off. 

Several hours later the group found themselves in the cargo bay of a RAF C-130. The group were all clad in black BDUs with a thick insulated jump suit over them to protect them in the harsh upper atmosphere; the more controllable civilian parachutes were used in favor of standard military parachutes, additionally full head helmets along with goggles and air masks were worn. The two Joes were armed with suppressed M-4s while the three SAS troopers were armed with suppressed MP-5s, with one having a shortened version of the FN Minimi light machine gun strapped to his chest. With the exception of Ripcord's demolitions gear and an SAS trooper's computer equipment; only ammo, personnel radios, and ballistic armor were used. As the group milled around Ripcord approached Covergirl and shouted over the sound of the aircraft's four prop driven engines, "Okay, you're the fourth jumper, the three SAS guys will be in front of you and I'll be behind you. So all you have to do is follow them and you'll be on target. We've set your chute to pop at the right altitude and given you a 15 second 'grace period'...just in case. If you have any problems radio me, and call out when your chute pops so I'll know you didn't have a malfunction." Before Ripcord could continue the loud blaring alarm and the blinking red light of the two minute warning started. Ripcord started to spit out his words rapid fire as he pulled down his goggles and pulled up his oxygen mask. "Okay, check all the seals on your suit, you'll freeze quick out there if it's not. Make sure your mask and goggles are locked and tight." As Covergirl finished sealing up her suit the rear ramp started to slowly crank down. Ripcord caught a quick series of movements in her eyes as the chill night air rushed in, unable to tell if it was just the cold or if it was fear. Just to be on the safe side he gave her a thumbs up and smiled under his oxygen mask. "You'll do fine." The thirty second alarm sounded as the everyone lined up. Ripcord waited patiently on the command and started humming 'Paint it Black' to himself. Suddenly the lights in the cabin burned green and the RAF jumpmaster started yelling "GO! GO! GO!" as he waved the three SAS troopers out of the aircraft. Finally the three were gone into the night sky and Covergirl's turn to run off of the ramp came as the jumpmaster continued his frantic waving and yelling. 

Cover Girl was actually shocked her hands weren't shaking, but she was doing her best to show no fear. On the ground, she knew she could hold her own, but this high altitude stuff... there was just something wrong about hurling yourself out of a moving aircraft that high up. "This is not the runway I'm used to seeing!" Cover Girl said out loud as she follows the SAS troopers out into the night. At least the darkness hid the sight of the ground rushing up towards them. The free fall seemed to take forever, much longer than any jump she had ever been on before. Shouldn't the chutes be opening by now? She'd wondered as they continued falling into nothingness. Most of the way down she spent with her stomach or heart, hard to determine which, in her throat, and she wondered how anyone could actually live for this, like her new partner seemed to. "C'mon, Skyboy, don't let me down..." she said to herself, as the chutes started appearing below her. True to his word, her chute opened on cue, and she called out as he'd requested. "Don't think Jamie Summers, Don't think Jamie Summers" she repeated to herself. She thought she'd heard some sort of whoop as his chute opened, jerking him upward, and had to smile. Following the SAS Troopers, Cover Girl had little trouble making the rooftop landing, maybe just a bit off, and immediately began rolling up her chute with the others, glad to be back on near the earth. Ripcord floated to a stop without making a sound, directly on target. He dismantled his gear long before the others, despite the fact he was last to land. She had to admit, he was good. "Hey, Ripcord..." She said to him with the others out of earshot. "Thanks, Skyboy." She flashed him a quick smile, and winked. "I'll check the building for an alarm system, and the easiest way in or out. Even though this place will soon be dust, no need to let them know we're here first. That should buy you more time to set the charges, while we search for info." 

Ripcord returned Covergirl's smile as she headed off towards the east door of the roof, just before pulling the black face mask down over his head. Then Ripcord then underwent a change, through the narrow eye slit of the mask his normally soft, bright eyes went hard and narrow. On his own in the air he was untouchable, but the ground was a far less forgiving environment. It was game time. He finished strapping on his kevlar when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. The heads of the group snapped to the west door as it swung open and a man stepped lazily out on the roof. The man was dressed in a stereotypical security guard uniform but was carrying a G-3A3 assault rifle instead of a flashlight and a 9mm pistol. He was armed, that was all the team needed to know. Before the guard even knew anyone was there several suppressed weapons opened fire on the man, spraying the wall behind him in a deep crimson. The skin showing through Big Ben's mask immediately went white, the operation was all ready starting to fall apart. The computer laden SAS trooper moved up and searched the man while the SAS machine gunner opened the door and checked down the stairwell. Within seconds the radio channels opened. 

"Silent." Came the response from the computer guy. 

"Alone." Was the response from the machine gunner. 

"Center. Command." Ben Big replied as he began to wave everyone in. With everyone in whisper range now he unfolded a blueprint of the building. "Okay, he was alone and without radio gear so he shouldn't be missed right away but in time he will be. So we're changing the plan, we're going to have to split up since our time just got cut." Big Ben then motioned to himself and the computer guy. "Team one will be myself and Biggles, we'll go down to the west door to the tenth floor then proceed to use the vent system to reach the computer labs on the eighth floor." He then pointed to Ripcord and the machine gunner. "Team two will be Ripcord and Givens, you will proceed through the east door and then go directly down the second elevator shaft to the second basement." Big Ben then looked at Covergirl, "Well you're the odd one out it seems, either team could hit stiff resistance so you can make the call on which team you want to attach yourself to." 

With one hand, Cover Girl scooped her reddish-blonde, shoulder length hair into a quick ponytail before sliding down her black mask. One look at Ripcord's cold eyes let Cover Girl know he could hold his own down here as well. And he'd have a full machine gunner watching his back. "If it's all the same, Sergeant, I'll stick with team one. I like the higher vantage point." She told Big Ben. "Watch for incoming traffic." As she readied her M-4, she heard Biggles slightly chuckle, and looked up. 

"You sure you can handle that, Love?" He cracked with a thick English accent. "They do, after all, have quite a kick." She shook her head as she pulled the 8 pound M-72 Light Anti-tank Weapon out of her rucksack, readying it as well. 

"Not quite the kick this LAW has." She quipped back, reslinging the slender launch tube. Big Ben, still looking slightly paled, began rolling up the blue prints. 

"Anti-Armor weapon..." He commented. "You stay on the roof, watch the surrounding area and radio if we have any uninvited guests." Covergirl checked her radio, and nodded in response, pulling the Kevlar helmet over her mask. She didn't mind the glorified guard duty assignment, would be more exciting than some computer lab, she figured. Seeing Ripcord check his demolitions equipment, she smirked, wondering what made this guy tick. Not only was he jumping HALO, he was jumping HALO with about 20 pounds of explosives strapped to his body. 

"Hey, Rip? Just give me enough time to get down, okay? I had one dive today, and have no intention of trying a base jump." 

The normal banter that Ripcord usually used are discarded in favor of a quick nod to respond to Covergirl's comment. The group finally split its three ways with the two the teams splitting their ways and leaving Covergirl alone among the darkened skyscrapers surrounding McCullen Technologies. 

Big Ben and Biggles carefully entered the west door and proceeded slowly down a single flight of stair. The two paused at the door of the tenth floor and exchanged a quick look. A moment later Biggles swung the door open while Big Ben did a combat roll into the room and began to swing the muzzle of his MP-5 around the room. 

"Clear." came the radio message from Big Ben. Biggles then proceeded carefully into the room. The two then walked around a series of work stations before arriving at far wall. Finally they found their target, a 4 foot by 4 foot vent shaft. Biggles proceeded to closely inspect the vent for alarms. After judging that it was safe he carefully removed the grating. "One. Entering." Ben Big spoke into the radio. As soon as the grate came off, Big Ben withdrew two chemical break lights from his ALICE gear and tossed them into the shaft. The two then carefully entered the system and began to crawl through the system. After a few minutes the two finally reached a vent grate from which soft talking was filtering through. Once again Biggles slid past Big Ben to check the grating. After a moment Biggles carefully slid the grating off and the two slid into the large room and carefully used the various computer and communications equipment to hide their movements. Finally the two saw the source of the talking, two men dress in gray and purple uniforms with goggled helmets, each having a red snake's head crest patched on the shoulders of their uniforms. Big Ben made a call on the radio as he and Biggles lined up the shots. "Contact." A split second later the two enemies went down in a hail of suppressed gun fire. "Zero two hostiles down." Big Ben said into the radio as he began to check the room for other people. At the same time Biggles moved forward towards the main console the two enemies had been standing near. He wiped the blood and gore off of the monitor as if it was a small annoyance while he began to hook up his electronic gear to the system. Within minutes he began to both download the data to his laptop while transmitting the data back to several locations, including MI-5 HQ, CIA HQ, and G.I. Joe HQ. 

"Downloading. Transmitting." He said into the radio. Then grinning under his mask he leaned over to Big Ben, "Is this a milk run or what mate?" 

Ripcord and Givens carefully entered the east door and proceeded down a single flight of steps towards the tenth floor. The two did a mirror image of Big Ben and Biggles' entrance. However once in the work area Ripcord and Givens had to pause for a moment while trying to remember the location of the elevator. "The Brit would have to only bring one copy of the blue print." Ripcord mumbled under his breath as he finally got his bearing and found the hallway which lead towards the elevator bank. Givens went to a knee against one wall and aimed the MP-5 at the elevator doors as Ripcord slapped the down button. As soon as he hit it Ripcord dropped back against the opposite wall and leveled his M-4 at the elevator. Finally a dull 'ping' sounded as the elevator stopped and it's doors slid open. The two stepped carefully inside and Ripcord worked to open up a maintenance hatch as Givens held the elevator doors open. Ripcord opened the hatch and slid into the shaft then motioned for Givens to follow. Givens slipped into the hatch and Ripcord closed the hatch behind them. "Two. Entering." The two began to make their way down the maintenance ladder until at around the seventh floor Givens spoke up. 

"Oh, bloody hell." Givens whispered to himself. But the echo of the shaft allowed Ripcord to hear it, and causes him to immediately freeze. 

"What's wrong?" Ripcord asked in and urgent voice. "I forgot to block the doors on the way out mate." Givens said with a defeated tone. "No time now, keep climbing down." Ripcord said in a calm voice while in his head he gave the SAS machine gunner the dressing down of his life. The two continued to climb in silence until the sound of heavy machinery is heard and Ripcord saw the counter weight fly up past him. "GO! GO! GO!" Ripcord screamed forgetting that the radios are volume activated. "Get the door open now!" Ripcord yelled as Givens began to work open the door of the third floor. Givens put all of his strength into prying the doors open as the elevator got closer and closer to Ripcord. "Damnit Givens move!" Ripcord looked up, seeing the elevator mere feet away. "Oh God!" Ripcord yelled as he closed his eyes. Then the sound stopped. Ripcord opened his eyes to see the elevator just inches away from his face. 

"I got it!" Givens called as he slipped into the opened doors. As Ripcord heard the tell-tale sign of the machinery start to work he let go of the ladder and narrowly caught the lip of the third floor. As the elevator started to come down he quickly pulled himself onto the third floor and flipped over onto his back as the elevator stopped on the third floor. As the dull ping sounded the doors slid open. They weren't wearing black. Ripcord didn't hesitate. He began to spray the elevator car with M-4 fire as an animal yell erupted from him. Within seconds the clip ran dry and the sound of suppressed fire was replaced by the low click of the bolt dry firing. Ripcord finally stood and let his index finger off of the trigger. He glanced back at Givens who didn't even get a shot off. He slapped a fresh magazine into his M-4 as he surveyed the corpses in the elevator car. The men were carrying bayoneted FN-FAL assault rifles and were in strange, almost formal red uniforms but with a full masked helmet on their head, each also had a silver snake's head crest on the front of their uniforms. 

"What idiots wear that into battle?" Ripcord muttered to himself. He turned to stare daggers at Givens as he made his radio report in a calm even voice. "Zero four hostiles down." Taking a deep breath and cooling his anger he looked at Givens, "Okay, well the elevators are out of the question now, so let's take the stairs down to the lobby then cut across the lobby to the basement stairwell." 

The central computers of Joe H.Q. were suddenly flooded with information as various blue prints and manifests on various Cobra vehicles, weapons, and equipment begin to scroll across the screen. Additional several codenames and locations for Cobra bases and operatives were added to the database as Biggles downloaded the data from McCullen Technologies to the Joe database. 

Save a civilian vehicle off in the distance, everything is quiet on the roof, except for the occasional radio traffic. 

"Clear." 

"One. Entering." 

"Two. Entering." 

"Contact." 

"Zero two hostiles down." 

"Downloading. Transmitting." Everything seems to be going fine inside until frantic radio traffic from Ripcord starts to filter in. 

"GO! GO! GO!" 

"Get the door open now!" 

"Damnit Givens move!" 

"Oh God!" 

"Holy Shit. " Cover Girl curses, fearing the worst for Ripcord and the others. She grabs the radio to buzz him back for a status report, when several men in bulky black and green uniforms with night vision goggles burst through the east door. "Holy Shit" She repeats, taking one out with her M-4 before ducking behind a vent. Her radio goes sliding down the sloped portion of the roof, just out of reach. "Two.... three... great... Just great." She says, counting the number of assailants still left alive. Taking turns spraying bullets with the M-4, and ducking back down, she sees some sort of armored vehicles pulling towards the west end of the building. "Who the.... who are these guys???" Reaching for another clip while firing, her hand rests on what she hopes will be her ticket out. She gives a second to let the troopers take a step up on her, quick kisses the cylindrical object for luck, and stands up, lighting the flare. Still wearing the night vision goggles, she knew the light would be blinding to them. As they screamed and tried to rip the objects off to shield their burned retina's, the bullets from her M-4 tore into them. Adrenaline charged, she fires an extra round into the head of each trooper, more as a confirmation to herself that each was dead. She bent down by one of the corpses, ripping an emblem off his uniform, one which looked like a red, hooded cobra about to strike. Checking frantically between both entrances, she backs towards her radio and grabs it. The strange looking vehicles inched closer. "Contact, Contact. Zero four hostiles down," she calls into the radio, grabbing the M-72. "Three hostile approach..." She stops short as one of the vehicles raises its missile platform. "Holy Shit" She still repeats, falling to her stomach, knowing it was about to fire on its own building. Quickly she grabbed and raised the Law rocket launcher, closing her eyes a brief second to steady her nerves. "One shot, one shot, one shot..." She said as her mantra, launching the missile. Right on target, but two bogies left. "Contact, We got.... jeeps, something, never seen...Out is good!" She shouted into the radio, shrugging another LAW tube off of her back. The second vehicle turned in a radius she had never seen luckily being disabled but not destroyed by her second rocket, but not before the third launching a rocket of its own. "Incoming!" She said into the receiver, taking cover from the impact. The missile pierced low, seeming to rip through around the tenth floor. Grabbing her radio again, she calls to both teams. "Damage report!" She asks. "Looks like they're trying to take out the computers! Team One, Team One, Out is good!" Nothing back. "Holy Shit!" Shrugging off the final LAW, she fell again to her stomach, watching the strange vehicle in the distance raise to fire again. "One shot, one shot, one shot..." She chanted again, holding her breath and taking aim. She felt the building shake again beneath her, almost as if another explosion had gone off, and tried to hold steady. "One shot, one shot one shot..." She heard, saw and felt nothing as the last rocket was launched, landing dead center. Once again, something in the building shook. "Team one, team two..." she called into the radio, dropping the now useless launcher, and heading for the north exit. "Team one, team two, repeat?" 

Ripcord and Givens began to carefully work down the three flights leading to the lobby. Givens felt awful, he'd nearly gotten Ripcord killed, he started to feel like he was suffocating, so he pulled of his gloves and mask into order to keep himself from hyperventilating. Finally the two reached the door that lead to the lobby. Ripcord eased the door open while Givens burst through and started scanning the area. The area was a large T shape with the elevator bank on one side and a wide corridor which presumably lead into the main lobby area. Givens started to try to ease around the corner when Ripcord put a hand on Givens to stop him. "Don't that's a prime spot for an ambush, run past it to check for hostiles first." Ripcord whispered to Givens, "Stay right behind me...and have the machine gun out." Ripcord said as he began to stare at the opposite wall. With a pat on Givens' shoulder Ripcord darted across the opening. He hated being right. As soon as his body came into view of the corridor he heard gunfire. Worse than gunfire, he heard the sharp crack hat came with near misses. With a war cry and a final dive Ripcord cleared the corridor and reached the other side of the 'T'. Givens was hot on Ripcord's heels until something happened. At first Givens thought he tripped which sent him sprawling onto the ground as the FN Minimi skidded away from him. More on instinct than anything else he began to crawl towards where his weapon lay just beyond Ripcord. His fall carried him past the corridor but Givens' didn't realize this, he thought only of his weapon. As his right hand reach out for the weapon the reality of what happened settled it. He had been shot. Looking down he saw that his thumb rested on top of his forearm, attached only by a thin strip of skin and muscle tissue. He threw his back against the wall and started screaming. 

"I'm hit! I'm Hit! God it hurts!" He yelped out loud enough for the radio to transmit the grim cry for help. Ripcord looked over Givens holding his hand, and unable to see the wound he reached into Givens' ALICE gear and withdrew a battle dressing. The gunfire still rattled down the corridor, and between it and Givens' screaming he was unable to hear Covergirl's transmission about the infantry or the vehicles. Givens' grip slipped and his thumb began to dangle under his hand, allowing Ripcord to see the damage. Ripcord had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting and almost dropped the battle dressing. After quickly recomposing himself he set the battle dressing aside and took hold of the thumb set it into Givens' palm and closed his fingers around it. 

"Just hang on to this okay buddy." Ripcord said as he began to wrap the dressing around Givens' hand. Ripcord then began to stand but an explosion caused him to duck down back. Before Ripcord tried to stand again, a second more violent explosion rocks the building. 

"Stand clear!" A voice shouted from somewhere down the corridor. Within seconds a very loud dull boom sounded followed by a set of elevator door across from the open corridor exploding. 

"Fuck this," Ripcord hissed "I'm not gonna sit here and die." He reached over and held Givens still long enough to grab four fragmentation grenades off of his ALICE. Then he reached over and grabbed the shortened FN Minimi, ignoring the blood smeared on the pistol grip. His pulled the pins from the grenades one by one while keeping the spoons depressed. In a swift motion, with two grenades in each hand he moved his thumbs which caused the four spoons to fly up in the air. After counting to two, he swiftly tossed the four grenades around the corner and picked up the machine gun. As soon as the dull explosion sounded he ran into the corridor and through the smoke. Upon clearing it he saw several bodies scattered around. However what catches his eyes is a large blue weapons platform with two large cannons on it's sides. Through the glass he saw the operator trying to track him. He brought the machine gun up to his eyes and fired a burst at the operator, who disappeared in a cloud of glass and blood. Several of the bodies on the floor began to move. Ripcord lined up and fired without remorse. 'It's me or them...or Covergirl.' he repeats to himself as the fountains of blood erupt from anything that moves. He began to walk back towards Givens, explosions rocking the building. He didn't care. He was too far gone on 'combat high'. Only the mission mattered to him. Just the mission and the survival of his friends. Ripcord spoke into the radio, not know if it was still functional "Two. Lobby clear. Moving down to target." As Ripcord reached Givens he bent down to him and started to take the boxes of ammo off of the SAS trooper while talking to him "Okay Givens I'm gonna head down to the second basement. Stay here, I'll come back for you." With that said Ripcord turned and walked into the stairwell leading down to the basement. As explosion continued to rip through the building and outside, Givens stood shakily and walked around the corner where he saw the jeep-like vehicles beyond the shattered glass of the lobby. Spotting the enemy gun platform he walked over to it and drug the enemy corpse out of the seat using his good hand. Then he crawled into the pod and after figuring out the control he swung the platform in line with the vehicles outside and began to line up a shot on one of the vehicles 

"You go on Ripcord, I'll take care of the party crashers lad." 

Everything was going fine until just before the data had finished downloading, that's when the operation fell apart. Big Ben and Biggles started to get the radio traffic from Ripcord. "Move Biggles it sounds like this operation is going sour, we need to hurry mate." 

"Almost....Yes! It's finished!" Biggles called out with a clap of his hands. "Both my gear and the secure locations. We now have full access to a load of Cobra information." Biggles pointed to the two corpses and smiled. "Those poor lads were Televipers." With that Biggles began to work quickly to disconnect his equipment from the computers. Then Covergirl's reports started to filter in. The duo both froze and stared at each other as the vehicles were reported. Soon an explosion from outside sounded and the two quickly began to run towards the door as a second, louder explosion sounded out, and knocked the two off their feet. "We REALLY need to rush I'd say." Biggles called out as the duo regained their footing. They both rushed to stair well only to find the stairwell engulfed in smoke. "Should we find an alternate route?" Biggles asked with a worried look. 

"No time, the lass might be in a tight spot up there." Big Ben responded as he started up the stair case. Before Big Ben could take more than just a few steps another explosion ripped through the building, knocking both men down while they watched in horror as the doorway to ninth floor was blown outward, only to be followed by a stream of flaming debris flying from the doorway which begun to consume the stairwell. 

"Err..the eighth floor is looking more hospitable..." Big Ben said before being cut off as a third explosion rocked the building. A cracking is heard from above as cracks start to appear from the 9-10 section of the staircase. 

"Biggles! Watch out!" Big Ben yelled as he grabbed at the SAS computer guy and yanked him onto the same platform as Big Ben; both looked on in relief as the concrete fell away just after Biggles was pulled out of the way. 

"This is suicide! We're trapped!" Biggles yelled as he looked down at the gapping hole in the stair well. 

"Wait! I've got an idea." Big Ben turned to a wire reinforced window on the side of the stairwell and began to shoot it out with his MP-5. Once some of the glass was broken he moved up and started to pry the wire out of the frame with a knife. "Hand me that fire hose on the wall!" With a curious look Biggles pulled the fire hose off of the wall and handed it to Ben Big. 

"That's not enough length to rappel down with." Biggles said as Big Ben started to look out of the window. 

"We're not going down. Not while we have teammate stranded on the roof. Now get on the radio and get RAF to sent a helicopter out here for pickup." With that said Biggles started to call in a request for RAF while Ben Big leaned out of the window. After searching for a moment he found an outcropping and began to tie a loop in the hose while knotting the hose itself every few feet. Finally the hose was ready and Big Ben tried several times before successfully looping the hose around the outcropping. "Let's go." He said to Biggles as he points up. 

"Roger, and RAF says they'll see what they can do but no promises, also if they can't make it we'll be stranded up there too." Biggles said in an worried voice. 

"Yeah well maybe if we flap our arms hard enough." Big Ben mumbled to himself as he began to climb the make shift rope. After a dangerous trip up the rope Big Ben finally pulled himself up onto the roof just as Covergirl was about to open the stairwell door. "You called? Oh, and I Wouldn't do that if I were you luv, the fire can be rather nasty." As Biggles climbed onto the roof behind Big Ben he looked skyward as the noise of helicopter rotors started to fill the night. "Hmm..RAF sure has good timing." Big Ben said as he searched the skies. "FANGs!" Biggles yelled as he pointed down the area of the main road which created a canyon in the city. "What's a FANG?" Big Ben asked as he gave Biggles a strange look. However the question was answered as two small helicopters appeared at the edges of the roof and began to orient their nose mounted gun turrets towards the trio on the roof. 

"This is not good...." Cover Girl said, keeping her eye on the one vehicle she thought to be disabled. The weapons platform raised and lowered. Towards the sky, she saw the RAF S-51 Dragonfly still off in the distance, and two small helicopters, the one's Biggles' called Fangs heading straight for them. "I'm outta rockets." She told them, clutching her M-4 a little tighter, wishing for at least one more LAW. Big Ben nodded, checking over the sides of the roof for possible ways down. "I've checked." She finished, shaking her head no. They shouldn't have come back ... "I told you guys out was good!" 

"What, and miss all this fun, Love?" Big Ben quipped. "Wouldn't 'ear of it." The three took cover as the closer of the two Fangs opened fire in rapid succession. They returned fire without success at the small craft. 

Covergirl caught sight of the vehicle below raising it's weapon once more, and called out..... 

"INCOMING!" She dropped to her stomach and covered her head. To her surprise, the blast she expected never came. It almost looked like it was firing on one of the small helicopters, the fangs, but missed. The FANG that had been firing on them turned to take on the craft below, giving Big Ben a perfect shot at the pilot. Even with an automatic pistol he proved to be deadly. The rotary wing clipped the side of the building before crashing to the earth, and the vehicle below took another shot at the other FANG. "What the...." Cover Girl grabbed the night vision binoculars and took a closer look. "Gibbons!" She called out. 

"Givens." Biggles corrected. Cover Girl wasn't paying attention. She was too busy scouting the area for her teammate. No sign of him anywhere. Yet another explosion from inside the building nearly knocked them off their feet. 

"Ripcord..." She said mostly to herself. 

"He's a big boy, Lass," He said, not calming her fears. "I'm sure he'll turn up just fine." 

Ripcord slowly made his down past the first basement under the continuous noise of heavy weapons and explosions from above. When he finally reached the second basement the sounds of battle ceased. Ripcord cocked his head slightly to listen as his thoughts began to wander, 'I doubt I'm down far enough for the sound to stop, so I guess somebody just won.' As the implication of the 'Cobras' winning sunk in he almost screamed aloud, 'No! She can't be dead! Suck it up and drive on Weems!' With a final shake of his head to clear his thoughts he carefully opened the door and stepped quickly into the room and leveled the FN Minimi out across the space. He saw crates, lots of crates. All different shapes and size, some still strapped to the beds of cargo trucks. Ignoring the crates and whatever items they held he quickly began to search out the key structural reports of the building and attaching a large amount of explosives to each one. He was so engrossed in work that he didn't notice three shadows slip away towards the back of the room. As the final charge was set Ripcord began to key in the remote detonators on a large radio switch board. Suddenly the whine of servos caught his attention and caused him to spin around. He turned just in time to see 'something' smash through a crate, sending AK-74s clattering across the floor. It was white, mechanical, and humanoid. Slightly taller than a human but much more bulky. However the 'eyes' of the machine showed a very human face behind a plate of glass. If there was flesh under the metal, it could die. Ripcord shot a spray of gunfire in the suit's direction but the 5.56 rounds did little more than raise a shower of sparks off of it. Taking more careful aim Ripcord targeted the glass, only to be rewarded with a similar shower of sparks. The suit raised it's arm. It gave much better than it got. A stream of burning fuel leapt out towards Ripcord; however a last minute combat roll saved him from a fiery death. He then looked up to see two more of the suits bring up the rear. "No fuckin' way..." he mumbled in disbelief as he dove into a clump of nearby boxes. As he begun heading deeper into the wooden and steel maze he heard heavy machine gun fire fill the air, followly by the rounds impacting the crates were he just was. Ripcord mentally took stock as he ducked down behind the wheels of a large flatbed tractor trailer. Small arms didn't work. No grenades. And all of the explosives would be need to level the building. Ripcord stared to the yet unprimed radio switch board for a long hard moment. Then he activated the radio and spoke in a calm even voice as he also hit a switch on the radio switch board, "If there's anyone left in the building you've got ten minutes to make it out...I'm sorry." Without waiting for a response he slide the head set off and took off the kevlar helmet and black mask too. Leaning his head against a box strapped down on the flatbed he let out a quiet, defeated laugh. "Well at least you won't be able to say you got me...I got myself." Ripcord turned his head and noticed a manifest attached to the huge box. "Nothing wrong with some light reading while I wait." he said as he tore the sheet of paper free from it's staples. 

Type: Final Pre-Production prototype 

Model: HiSS (High Speed Sentry) 

Class: Armored assault vehicle. 

Before Ripcord read any further an idea sparked in his head. Ripcord turned around and fired a burst into the wooden then let kick finish off the job, leaving a small hole in the crate. He pushed himself into the box and turned on his flashlight. "Whoa." It was a APC At least it looked like an APC But whatever it was, it looked mean as hell. "Where's Covergirl when you really need her." He scanned over the vehicle and spotted a turret with two heavy guns pointing out of it. Ripcord may not be able to drive a tank, but any idiot could work a few heavy machine guns. He quickly climbed on top of the armored personnel carrier and slid into the turret. He stabbed out at a red button marked 'POWER' and was rewarded with the hum of electronics, after searching again he found a 'ARM' button which lead to the sound of rounds begin chambered. He quickly discovered that the foot petals moved it left and right, then flipping up the sight for the guns he listened for the heavy footfalls of the armored suits. Ripcord jerked the triggers back. The box flew apart as the .50 caliber slugs tore through it. The suits all turned in the direction of the HiSS. Ripcord strafed the turret toward the closest suit which promptly exploded in under the storm of the large rounds. The second suit turned to run but the bulky suit's attempt was in vain as Ripcord easily tracked it and watched it die a similar death. Before Ripcord could track the third suit it split apart and a man in bulky green and black uniform went running behind some of the larger crates. Within seconds the revving of a large engine was heard. Then with a screaming of tires a black jeep-like vehicle rounded the corner. Ripcord saw a rack of four missiles on the vehicle's back and immediately opened fire. The heavy slugs went through the front window, the driver, the back window, and finally snapping the missile rack off. However as soon as he let off the triggers he heard the sounds of the heavy engine still working. He glanced at his watch, which read 05:14. Grinning he leapt down from the HiSS' turret and sprinted for the jeep. He clawed what little was left of the driver out of the seat and jumped in, slamming the accelerator down. After wasting valuable seconds of looking around he found the ramp of the first basement. 04:03. He found the street exit somewhat faster. 03:21. As he pulled out on the street he swung the wheel left and right to avoid the seemingly endless string of debris and husks of vehicles on the street. As he glanced up he saw that the building was on fire, he also saw a RAF helicopter lift off of the roof. 02:16. As he passed the shattered glass of the front entrance he slammed on the breaks, remembering Givens. He jumped out and sprinted towards into the lobby. A lucky glance at the weapons platform/trailer revealed a passed out Givens in the pod. Ripcord quick pulled the SAS trooper out and threw him over his shoulders. 00:58. Ripcord ran as fast as the extra weight allowed him to back the vehicle and setting Givens down in the passenger side. Ripcord's heart was racing and he was breathing extremely hard as he climbed back into the driver's side. 00:14. Without a second glance Ripcord put the accelerator into the floorboard and speed off into the night as a loud, rolling boom rang out into the breaking dawn. Ripcord headed back to the RAF base and dropped Givens off at the base hospital. Feeling somewhat stupid now that it was broad daylight he drove the battered, blood stained enemy vehicle up to the runway where the RAF helicopter sat with the others resting up against it. After pressing down the 'STARTER' switch the engine died out and Ripcord slowly dismounted and made his way towards the trio... 

Big Ben's words went right through Cover Girl, whose thoughts for Ripcord were cut short. The second Fang was bearing down on the three of them. The small rotary wing craft was easily maneuvered, and the pilot began spraying the area with bullets. 

"Crike! I'm `it!" One of the Brits called out. Looking to her left, she could see Biggles grasping his shin. Big Ben almost immediately grabbed him, pulling him for better cover, but over Girl was focused on the pilot himself, specifically the red snake on his blue uniform. 

"Bastard." She said mostly to herself. As his next barrage of bullets began, she stood up and ran east of where the two Brits were taking cover, offering her own barrage back. "COME ON!" She dared him, ducking behind a vent duct near the building's ledge. He accepted the challenge, swinging the turret her way, and moving in closer. Bullets rained around her area as she changed clips. "This is not good…" She repeated. She could hear gunfire from the Brit's direction, drawing the FANG's fire away from her for a split second. Still focusing on the blue uniformed figure, she saw the shot she needed. Once again, she heard nothing as she pulled the trigger, the soldier's blue uniform spurting red with each M-4 shot. His limp body hung from the open pilot's seat, sending the craft spiraling down towards the building. She didn't even have the time to get a "not good" comment out before she dove from the area, tucking and rolling until the hit ledge barrier. A large piece of flaming wreckage landed close to where she lay, covering her Kevlar helmet with her arms, keeping her eyes shut tight. Once brave enough to open them, she could see it had stopped only inches away. The soldier's boot was still attached to the rudder pedal in front of her, and she shuddered, thinking the possibility of a foot still being inside. 

"Lass?" Big Ben called, as he stopped short in front of her. "Lass, are you all right?" Shaking slightly, she stood up, shrugging off the hand he offered for help and nodded. Save a few scrapes, and a bruise or two, she was fine physically. 

"How's Biggs?" She asked. 

"'E'll be fine." He told her. "Took a nasty scrape to the shin, be off `is feet for a few weeks, but e'll live." She took another long look over the building's side, hoping for signs of Ripcord, but still found none "C'mon, Lassie," Big Ben softened his tone. "Our ride's `ere. I'm going to need your `elp with Biggles." She cursed herself as she walked over to where the chopper was hovering, lowering a sling to carry them up to safety, helping to first get Biggles situated. Giving the crewman a thumbs up, Biggs was hoisted above the search and rescue helicopter. Big Ben could see Cover Girl balk when the sling was being lowered, grabbing both it and her at the same time. "I don't want any `not without my buddy' speeches." He told her, still holding her arm. "'Theirs nothing you can do from up `ere. Now let's go, Soldier." She knew he meant the 'soldier' part more as a compliment then as a reminder of his rank, but it didn't make her feel any better, and didn't make her stop dragging her feet about wanting to somehow help Ripcord. Several explosion sounds could be heard from beneath, causing the whole building to shake, but these were different, one after another, both soldiers knew they had to be charges. Big Ben pulled the sling around Cover Girl, then held on around her, knowing the building only had a few seconds left. The two were lifted up to the ascending aircraft, which was fighting the draft the collapsing building was pulling in. Below she could see nothing but dust and clouds of billowing smoke. 

"Damnit, Skyboy." She said to herself, as they were pulled into the helicopter by awaiting crewman. The helicopter hovered above for only a brief second before heading back to the RAF base. Cover Girl shrugged off the medic who offered to check her minor scrapes. She heard Ben say something about her losing a mate, and he told of how they lost one of theirs, as well. Not enough time to grab him before the building came down, but she wasn't listening. She fought the urge to let a tear escape as she thought back to Ripcord's reassuring eyes before the high altitude jump. Sitting off by herself, she tightly clutched the red snake insignia she took from the first person she had killed, the first soldier up on the roof. Cover Girl didn't feel the chopper land, or even hear the engine's cut as it set down on the hangar's apron. She hadn't even realized the sun had come up until she stepped into the bright sunlight. 

"C'mon, Lassie…" Ben told her. "We'll get you somewhere you can clean up, before you `ead home if you'd like." She shook her head no, then sat down on the tarmac by the rescue chopper's wheels, rubbing her head for a quick second. Ben and Biggles were silent as they too sat down, remembering their fallen teammate as well. The rumble of a diesel engine in the distance snapped her back to reality. She knew that sound, the engine, … it was one of the enemy's vehicles! Before it pulled into sight, she stood up readying her M-4… 

"Enemy Vehicle approaching!" She told the Brits, wondering how it would get on base. The armored vehicle moved quickly, and came into sight within seconds. No way would a tiny M-4 stand up against that kind of armor, but there was no where to go on an open flight line. Still, one shot is all that would be needed to get the exposed driver. The craft pulled to a stop, but the missile platform, as well as half of the cab, was missing. Looking through the M-4's guides she saw a figure climb out, and aimed straight for the chest. Strangely she did not see the red snake symbol. She saw a black flack vest, much like the one she was wearing. Raising the site a little higher, she knew why. She recognized the eyes. "Ripcord!" 

Ripcord and Covergirl began to head toward each other with a quickened step, and stopped about four feet apart. Both just stared at each other for long moment while the wind whipped their uniforms and hair around. Neither said a word, mainly because neither really knew what exactly to say. The tension of the moment shattered as Biggles hobbled over with the assistance of Big Ben, 

"Crikes! That Stinger looks like `ell." Biggles said as he stood gawking at the partially destroyed roof and missing rear missile rack of the black jeep. 

"What?" Ripcord asked quizzically as he looked around Covergirl to see Biggles. Who promptly pointed out the vehicle. 

"It's called a Stinger." Biggles said with a nod of his head and smile. The sound of engines could be heard nearby as a column of vehicles pulled up. Several British soldiers and medics stepped from the vehicles and head towards the group. Ripcord looked back at Covergirl as the medics began to take Biggles into an ambulance and Big Ben was ushered to a Land Rover. Covergirl opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as a medic approached the two. 

"Sir?" the medic said to Ripcord. Who turned to look at the medic. "If you could come with me please." 

"No, No, it's alright, I'm not hit." Ripcord said with a slow shake of his head. However Ripcord followed the medic's gaze down to his forearm. The black assault BDU fabric was scorched. Ripcord had been so concerned with the mission and later Covergirl to realize that he caught of the armored suits' flame thrower. After seeing the wound, the pain set in, like a sunburn but worse. As the medic started to cut the sleeve of the uniform open, two soldiers appeared and escorted Covergirl away. Ripcord's gaze followed her all the way to the Land Rover she was lead into. 

"You're lucky sir, the Nomex woven into the suit saved you from anything too serious, you've just got mostly second degree burns, with a few spots of third degree." Medic said as gave Ripcord an injection of local anesthetic. The medic lead him to an ambulance where the blisters were drained before bandages, a cold wrap, and a plastic covering were applied to his arm. Immediately after his wounds were attended to, he was escorted to another Land Rover. He really needed a shower and some sleep but the Brits insisted he be debriefed first. The coffee was a poor substitute for sleep as he lazily recounted the actions from earlier that morning. The data was accompanied by the data Biggles had raided, so Ripcord's worries now had names. Crimson Guardsmen, ASPs, SNAKEs, Night Vipers, and of course Stinger and HiSS. Finally after recounting his misadventures for the fourth time the MI-5 personnel seemed satisfied. 

"Well Specialist, you'll be happy to know that the data is now safely stored and we have confirmed the building to be completely destroyed, well done. Tomorrow at 13:00 local your flight, a USAF KC-135 will take you and your teammate back to Pope AFB. Big Ben will also go back with you to act as a go-between for SAS and G.I. Joe." 

"Thanks." Was the biggest sentence that Ripcord could form. After he was released, he headed back towards the room that RAF had given him. He really wanted a shower and a change of clothes but it could wait, he was too tired. He entered and after setting an alarm he literally fell onto the bed and drifted off to sleep. The buzzing of the alarm woke Ripcord up, which he slammed his hand down onto it with almost destructive force. Lazily dragging himself off of the bed he stripped down and headed for the room's small showered. After setting the water to almost scalding temperature he stepped in and just stood leaning against the wall. The steam swirled and the water ran off his red hair as he just stood there reflecting on the events that now seemed to be years ago. So that was it. Combat. He had killed people. 4 Crimson Guardsmen. 12 Soldiers. The ASP operator. And 3 Night Vipers. 20. 20 men that he had personally sent to the grave. Plus whoever else was still in the building when the charges blew. Despite the heat of the water, a chill went through his body. Then another horror set in as he listened to the patter of water hitting the plastic wrapped around his arm. He could have been killed. The image of a soldier in Class A's walking up to his mother's door played through his head. Ripcord shuttered again and fought the urge to vomit. He exited the shower used the time it took to pack his gear and put on a pair of clean BDUs to gather his thoughts and re-compose himself. After a short time he was his old self again. No. He could never be his old self again. But this was as close to it at he could come to. He walked the distance to Covergirl's room and knocked on the door. "Hey Covergirl, it's time our flight back to the states leaves in about an hour, we need to head out the flight line." 

The debriefing seemed to take forever, even though Cover Girl felt she didn't have much to recount. She wasn't sure if it was the thick English accent or the fact she was drained that kept her from comprehending everything that was being said, but finally it was over and she was shown to a room in billeting. A room that was eerily too quiet. After a long, much needed hot shower, she pulled her damp hair back into a loose braid and crawled beneath the covers. She stared blankly at the alarm clock for a few minutes before snapping on the television, not really caring what was on, just needing some sort of noise. She wasn't sure how many old BBC comedies she saw that night, but sleep just wasn't cooperating. Still, Benny Hill and the Best of Monty Python was helping to keep her from replaying any of the days events. She thought back to General Hawk's words in the meeting…'Ripcord and Covergirl, Yours will be most likely the best and easiest assignment.' Her thoughts went to the others in the meeting, names she didn't recognize, but faces she could picture. 

Even though the flight home wasn't scheduled until 1300 that day, she was up and dressed in a sweatshirt and shorts at dawn. She had seen a running track along side the flight line the day before, and figured a jog would help clear her head. The jog soon turned into a hard run, but even running didn't seem to help. She had thought it would be different, killing someone. Actually had hoped it would be different, thought it would… bother her more. The fact that it didn't is what kept her up most the night. When her shallow breathing lead to a stitch in her side, she stopped her running cold, and walked back to the billeting room to take another shower and change into clean BDU's. She thought her blue eyes looked a little more gray in the mirror, but then again, it was probably the steam built up on the mirror, she rationalized. She grabbed some coffee and sat in one of the room's small arm chairs, turning to some local news as a distraction. Oddly there was no mention of a building collapsing, or of anything that had transpired the night before. She flipped through the pages of an old car magazine she had brought with her, drifting on and off. The next thing she knew, there was a knock on her door that jolted her awake. 

"Hey Covergirl, it's time our flight back to the states leaves in about an hour, we need to head out the flight line." She checked her watch, glad Ripcord woke her up. 

"One sec…" She called out, ponytailing her hair to keep it off her shoulders in regulation. She grabbed her cover and gear and met Ripcord in the hallway. She still wanted to tell him that she was glad he was okay, or words to that affect, say something about yesterday, but could only come out with a quick. "How's the arm?" He nodded an "okay" response, but the two were joined by Big Ben before he could answer. 

"'Ello, Mates. Good day for a trip across the old pond, isn't it?" He asked. She smiled and nodded as they headed towards the flight line. "I checked on Givens this morning, lad, looks like they'll be able to save `is thumb, thanks to you. `E of course, says thanks as well." "You yanks `ungry at all?" He continued, not taking a break between sentences. "I picked up some sandwiches from the mess, don't exactly think we'll be getting peanuts on the flight across." He offered one to each of them as they waited to board the Stratotanker which would take them home. Between his droning on and the roar of the refueling jet's engines, Cover Girl was finally able to grab some sleep. Finally, the large craft set down on the runway at Pope AFB, where they caught a Tomahawk back to Headquarters. A young lieutenant met them out on the apron, and both popped him a perfect salute after departing the large transport craft. 

"Good work on your assignment." He told them, returning the salutes as the rotors stopped turning. "I know you've had a long flight, but I need to bring you over to debriefing." He sounded almost apologetic, something definitely CG was not used to hearing from a butter bar. Then again, a few days ago she had been face to face with a full one star general, not something she was used to seeing on the firing range or motor pools where she normally worked either. Cover Girl straightened the stiff fabric of her BDU's and checked her cover to make sure everything was in order. Even if they used code names, he was still an officer. She put on her best calm and collected face, at least being a model for all those years taught her how to keep her bearing, even back when she was the only 'chick' in armor tech school. He walked them over to a small room, and stepped inside with them, giving the 'At ease' command almost as a side thought, when he noticed the two American soldiers still caging their eyes and standing stiffly. "Just have a seat." He said, pointing to the metal chairs by long folding tables. "Grab some coffee from the back if you need it." He shut the door behind him, but remained standing outside. Cover Girl took one of the hard chairs to wait for yet another debriefing to begin. 

Law finally reached a his destination, a simple wooden door in the bowels of The Pit with the only marking being a simple 133 stenciled above the door in black. Coming to a halt he gave the door three firm knocks. "Enter." Came the muffled response from within. The stocky MP walked in and saw three people gathered around a small table. On one side of the table he saw some officer he hadn't met before. The two on the other side he recognized as Ripcord and Covergirl. Law was a little shocked at first, he'd heard the mission went a little bad but it was a success and that his two teammates had performed greatly. But now he saw that it had a price. Both of them looked like hell, tired, bruised, and maybe even a little dumpy. "What is it soldier?" The officer asked in an inpatient voice. The comment knocked Law back to reality. 

"Sorry to interrupt sir but I have a message from the general." Law said as he came to attention and shot a salute up. The officer returned the salute. The officer then nodded for Law to continue. Law turned to Covergirl and Ripcord. A bit of grief swelled in Law with his next words as he felt sorry for the two. "The General has just ordered a operational briefing which the two of you are required at." With that said, Law turned smartly on his heels and exited the small room. The two soldiers exchanged a knowing glance. So much for down time. 

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 0.6.7 -->


End file.
